“You don’t understand how upset they are.”
“Well, of course they are. They’re hurt and confused, just like you. You’re all in pain and still grieving, for God’s sake. So, give yourself a break. Give them a break. They’ll come around, you know they will.”
“No, I don’t, Nadine. I just don’t know anything right now.” She stood and angrily brushed the grass from her behind. Though Nadine was right about what needed to be done, as she often was, she wasn’t saying what Carla wanted to hear, and she’d obviously heard her irritation in that last statement.
“Okay, what’s going on? You only get this stubborn and pessimistic when you’re facing something you can’t predict the outcome of. Don’t tell me it’s just your family issue, either. We both know that will work itself out at some point, even though it doesn’t feel that way that right now. So, there has to be something more. Otherwise you would’ve bucked up, ready to go forward with a little hope and perseverance, just like you always do after we talk things through.”
Carla took a long look at her grandmother’s grave. She put her hand to her heart, told her she loved her, and turned to head back toward the church. Sweat stung her eyes and soaked through her clothes, causing her T-shirt to stick to her back. But that mild discomfort wasn’t the reason why she hadn’t yet answered Nadine.
“Carla? Will you please talk to me and tell me what’s bothering you?”
She palmed her forehead and laughed at herself, knowing what she was about to say sounded bizarre.
How had this happened?
Why was it happening?
And how could it be with someone I’ve known forever?
“Carla?”
“It’s…a woman.”
Silence.
“A woman?”
“Yes.”
“A woman.”
“Yeah.”
“In the middle of all this? Of all you got going on? Carla, what the fuck? What are you doing messing around with a woman? I mean I guess I can sort of understand maybe a need for comfort in all your grief, but to just up and sleep with someone, and at a time like this, doesn’t sound like you.” She paused, obviously exasperated, and took a breath. “I mean what the fuck? You don’t even like casual sex. You always say you could never have sex with someone you don’t know. Carla, my God—”
“Nadine.” But she kept going. Carla raised her voice. “Nadine.”
She finally stopped her verbal tirade as Carla stopped beneath the tree she’d stood under with Janice the day of the funeral. Its cool shade was a nice break from the sun, and she recalled how calm she’d felt when Janice had come to stand by her, not saying a word, just letting her know she was there with her, with nothing but love and support, should she need her.
Just like last night.
“I know her,” she said, recalling how she’d woken early that morning to find herself lying in her arms on the couch. They had been entangled, wrapped up in each other and pressed together like their forms had been melded together. They had to have fallen asleep quickly, because Carla’s shoes were still on and they both were still dressed in yesterday’s clothes. But that didn’t seem to have stopped them from finding comfort.
Carla hadn’t moved for a long while, relishing her warmth and the soft contours of her body while she continued to sleep, breathing softly, her hair cascading around her shoulders, framing her peaceful face with the color that reminded her of a glowing ember.
“She’s a family friend,” Carla said, coming back to Nadine. “I’ve known her my whole life.”
More silence.
“A family friend who’s a lesbian? You’ve never mentioned her—”
“I don’t think she’s—I’m not sure she’s gay.” She leaned against the broad, rough trunk and picked at the bark, thinking about how absolutely beautiful Janice had looked when Carla had carefully roused her. Those piercing eyes of hers had opened slowly, and dozens of tiny crystals seemed to be shining from their depths.
“Um, I’d say sleeping with you kind of pushes her more toward that end of the spectrum don’t you think?”
Carla laughed. “I haven’t—we haven’t.” They had technically slept together. “Been intimate.”
She heard Nadine sigh in her classic, you’re driving me batshit crazy, Carla, fashion. Carla tried to explain.
“I’m pretty sure she’s having feelings,” Carla said.
“And you obviously are as well.”
Carla once again palmed her forehead, knowing any denial would be futile.
“Yes.”
Another long silence.
“Now?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Amidst all this? The death, the drama, the—”
“Yes.” Carla could almost hear the cogs of her mind working. She knew what she was telling her sounded very unusual and totally out of character. The last Nadine had known, Carla wasn’t planning on meeting anyone again, much less developing feelings for them. The failure of her relationship had completely vanquished her dream of a lifelong love, and Nadine’s mere hints at possibly trying to meet someone new had been met with quick and firm rebuttals and an absolute insistence she didn’t want to ever go there again. She was just too jaded, with wounds that had healed, but healed with scars that were still red, not yet having faded to match her surrounding flesh.
“This is—I mean—wow,” Nadine finally said, sounding truly astounded.
Carla smiled, appreciating her friendship more than ever. She’d known she’d get it. The magnitude of what she’d just relayed was not going to be lost on Nadine. She knew Carla way too well.
“I’ve been staying with her,” Carla said. “Sleeping on Maurine’s couch was killing me and so was the constant onslaught of people. Janice offered me a quiet reprieve and I accepted.”
“And now you’re sensing a mutual attraction.”
“I’m almost positive.” She flashed back to the morning again, to when she’d just woken her, and recalled how she’d smiled shyly at her and greeted her with a raspy, sleep-laden and extremely sexy sounding, “Morning.” They’d spent an awkward moment untangling and Janice had run her hand through her thick locks, as if she were worried about looking unruly.
Carla had quickly reassured her. “Do you know how many women would kill to wake up looking like you do right now?”
She had smiled again, but it was coy.
“You don’t need to worry about your hair,” Carla had said. “Or anything else for that matter.”
Their eyes had locked, but Janice hadn’t spoken. She’d said so much with her stare.
Carla had started to speak, but Janice had stopped her.
“Please, don’t say thank you again.”
Carla had cocked her head. “How did you—”
Janice had laughed.
She had a wonderful laugh, and the sound of it had pulled at the strings of Carla’s heart, reminding her of times long ago.
Nadine’s voice brought her back to the present.
“You’re not sure what to do, are you?”
“No.”
“You can’t talk to her?”